YHIL: Footprints to Nowhere
by Catch23North
Summary: Fifteen years after a bad break-up, Frostbite is trying to come home. Frostbite/Off-Ramp, Bonfire/Thunderhead. Near-future AU. DC Series: Young Heroes in Love
1. Chapter 1

Fifteen years after a bad break up, Frostbite is trying to come home. Frostbite/Off-ramp(George Sloan). DC Series: Young Heroes in Love

* * *

Footprints to Nowhere

* * *

--

Off-Ramp:

I saw him before I really SAW him.

Across the street, past the glare of the white sun on yesterday's snow, and wearing blue-jeans and a coat of all things. Just another nameless guy passing through town, until he turned his face to the side to check for oncoming traffic, and his profile clicked into my memory like a long-lost key.

I stopped, and watched him walk across the two-lane highway that separated us. He was deep in thought, and didn't see me until he was almost to the other side. He caught his breath for a moment, then finished crossing. We were now about thirty feet of snow-covered asphalt apart. My breath swirled white into the cold morning air, and his didn't. From this distance, we sized each other up carefully.

Then he began walking over towards me, in no hurry. His taste in clothes seemed to have mellowed over the years, but he'd kept the ponytail and earrings, and the black tank-top that he wore under the coat suited him. I was just beginning to wonder whether or not he'd also kept the nipple-rings, when it dawned on me who I was looking at: Frostbite, the guy who'd left his KID with me, and disappeared for the past decade and a half. Needless to say, my reaction to him cooled off a bit at that point.

"You're back," I said, neutrally.

"Yeah," Frostbite didn't seem surprised by my reaction.

"For how long?"

That hurt him, but there was a flash of anger in his eyes, downcast though they were.

"I don't know yet."

"Then go away," I told him.

"No, I've come this far," he refused, calmly.

"You wanna get a beer?" I asked.

"Okay."

Two sets of footprints ended in unbroken snow a moment later.

* * *

The bar was closed at this hour, so I took us home. Frostbite waited in the garage downstairs while I got the beer.

Opening the refrigerator door, I caught sight of a magnet that I must have seen a thousand times. It was a photograph of Tony and Snap from a camping trip this past summer. T-shirts and shorts, and hair still wet from lake Geneva. Tony had an arm draped over- -or was it around?- Snap's neck, tan skin contrasting with blue, and they both looked full of mischief. That had been taken after lunch but before the cooler got tipped over, I recalled.

I took it with me.

When I got back, Frostbite was looking at Snap's dirt-bike helmet. It had originally been black, but was long since covered in BMX stickers, and lightning bolts cut out of silver metallic tape. Snap had written 'AVANTI!' down the center bolt in black felt-tip pen.

"Yeah, that's his," I interrupted Frostbite's thoughts, "Catch."

He caught the beer in his left hand, and froze the magnet in mid-air with his right before catching it also. He set the beer aside un-opened, and flicked the magnet a few times to break the frost coating.

"Thi- This is him?"

"Both of them," I nodded.

"...Antonio?" he pointed to my half-Italian son.

"He goes by Tony," I popped the tab on my beer, and took a swallow.

"Selekarinin..."

"What?"

"I never even told you his NAME?!" Frostbite looked over at me, shocked.

"Jesus, that's even worse than what -I- came up with..." I muttered.

"You gave him a human name," -It wasn't a question. Frostbite looked like he wanted to yell at me, VERY badly, but he didn't.

"Doesn't matter," I shrugged, "-he only answers to 'Snap' anyway."

"Snap?" asked Frostbite, somewhat amused.

"Not what you think. He may be immune to cold, but he didn't inherit your powers."

"Hm."

"He does have me real curious about what his mom could do, though."

"Why, what can Sel- -Snap do?" Frostbite asked, quickly.

"You first."

"I -don't-. Want. To talk about it."

"Too bad." I snorted.

"Monique was a witch. She could do a lot of things," Frostbite ground out.

"A name. That's a start," I took another drink from my beer. Frostbite's remained unopened. "-Snap can freeze time. He keeps moving, everybody else stops for a second or three. -That ring any bells for you?"

"No," Frostbite shook his head, looking a bit sad.

"Too bad. It's a hell of a power."

"It would be..." Frostbite trailed off, "-where are they now?"

"Out skiing. The Pyrenees, probably. They've been pounding Mt. Fuji all weekend."

"They sound close."

"They're brothers."

Frostbite sighed, then closed his eyes and smiled.

"Thank you."

"Yeah, whatever. How are you gonna do this?"

"Do what?" Frostbite looked up.

"You're back in town, you obviously wanna see Snap. What are you gonna do about it?"

"I started by talking to you first."

"That's fine as far as it goes. What are you going to do -now-?" I pressed.

"I haven't figured that out yet."

"Look, if you-" I paused, then started over. "-Snap has always wanted to meet you, but if you start this thing and then bail on u- -him again, I will ramp you into the SUN, understand?"

"That's fair," agreed Frostbite, dryly.

"Glad we got that cleared up. Where are you staying?"

"I just got into town," he shrugged.

"Get a motel or something. I'll let Snap know you're here, and we'll see what happens."

"Thanks for the beer," He took the can with him when he left, still unopened.

* * *

Frostbite:

What. Am. I. THINKING??

Oh, no. Don't back out now...

What. Am. I. THINKING??

I can do this, dammit...

"Well, this ought to be interesting," purred Grisham.

"Yeah, well you can just sit back and watch, needle face!" I snapped.

"Methinks you a fool, to be in this time-zone..."

"We have a DEAL, Grisham. And we both know what happens if you break a deal," I reminded him.

"Unfortunate, yes... And with the blood, follow the blood, flows the way..."

"You get weirder every damn day," I sighed.

"And damned they are, eh?" chuckled Grisham.

"And damned they are," I agreed.

"Tehehe..."

It was time to go for that beer now, I decided.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

FAASH! Ka-thump!

"-Slopers don't know what they're doing! That's why they're there in the first place!"

"That kid was good, you just didn't want to LOSE."

"Dream on, Snap."

"Thank you, I will..."

"Oh NO, don't start! If I hear the word 'Cheryl' one more time, Rice Crispies, you are goin'-"

Snap and Tony burst into the kitchen, still shedding small puffs of snow from their hair and clothing.

"-Down! ...hi, dad," Tony made straight for the cabinet where the hot chocolate was kept.

"Leave any snow behind on the mountain?" I asked.

"With that much snow, we had to! It may not be the top of the season down there, but-"

"Australia?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," Tony nodded, his back to us.

I blinked, and Snap was now leaning against the kitchen table, orange juice in hand. I waited until Tony was done making his hot chocolate, then said,

"Snap, I need to talk to you alone."

"Wait, I can explain-" began Snap.

"-Alone- alone?" asked Tony.

"Yeah, -alone- alone," I nodded.

"Best of luck, kid," Tony patted Snap on the head, and ramped himself elsewhere.

"-Like I was saying, it's not like it-"

"Snap," I interrupted, "-sit down."

The beginnings of a curious frown settled onto Snap's face, and he sat down across from me at the table.

"What's going on?"

"Frostbite," I cut to the chase, "-you still wanna see him?"

Snap made a small choking sound.

"You know where he is?!"

I nodded.

"WHERE?!"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Where, GODDAMMIT??" demanded Snap, jumping up and pacing several circles around the table within the space of a few seconds.

"SIT DOWN," I yelled, before the cupboards started shaking.

Snap stopped pacing, and stood with his fists clenched at his sides.

"Tell. Me," he pleaded.

"I don't know where he's staying, but he'll be in Victoria park tomorrow afternoon."

"I-I-I just can't believe this. This better not be a joke. -It's not, is it?" Snap looked over at me sharply.

"Of course not. I wouldn't lie to you about something like this."

"Did he call you up, or did you see him, or what?"

"I met him on the edge of town."

"And?"

"And what?" I chuckled.

"What does he look like now? What did he say, I mean, did he tell you what he's been doing all this time?"

"He looks... well, he looks about the same. ...Except he was wearing, y'know... clothes."

"The -same- the same?"

"No, just -about- the same, the same. As to what he said... he mostly asked about you, and he didn't TELL me a damn thing."

"Oh," Snap sounded like he wasn't sure whether to be disappointed or not.

"Think you're gonna get any sleep tonight?"

"Are you kidding?" Snap snorted.

"Pulp Fiction?" I suggested.

"Mission Impossible 4," Snap decided.

"Fair enough," I shrugged.

* * *

Frostbite:

He'll be here in an hour.

I'm pacing, but there's not much point in forcing myself to stop.

Fifteen years...

A lot can happen in fifteen years.

Could I have come back sooner?

Probably.

Then again, returning now may be too soon.

Time will tell, perhaps violently.

What I wouldn't give to know for sure...

I stop walking under the brittle canopy of an elm tree. It's young, probably planted right after the forest service figured out how to make these things immune to Dutch Elm disease. I sit down in a low snow-bank piled up against the elm's base, and draw my knees up to my chest. I fold my arms over my knees, then rest my chin on them, watching.

Then I forget the whole thing and start walking again, hands shoved deep in the pockets of my coat.

It's been a long time since I noticed I was wearing a coat and found that strange, but talking to Off-Ramp yesterday knocked all sorts of things loose. 'Get a motel or something,' he said... -he's forgotten so much. Telling me to 'get a motel' would be like me telling him to 'get a cab'.

Then again, George had a life while I was gone.

I wanted to create something right then, to throw arcs of ice high over the pathways and trees of the park, to turn the playground climbing dome into a faceted snow-globe, and-

-Hell, I could have put up a life sized sculpture of the Queen Elizabeth II, if I had tried.

But I didn't.

I'm not the wizard of Oz, and that's not how I wanted my son to see me.

So I waited...

* * *

Off-Ramp:

By one o'clock PM we were already at the park, and Snap had searched over half of it. Me, I was in no hurry. Why should I be?

When Snap finally found him, I imagine Frostbite's first impression of his son was of a blue streak running across the snow. -That's how everyone sees Snap at first, just ask his second grade teacher.

What Snap thought when he first saw Frostbite, I'll probably never know. Wearing the same big gray coat, blue jeans, and tan lace-up work boots that I'd seen him in yesterday, Frostbite was starting to look like a ski bum to me.

I caught up with them right after they met. Neither Snap nor Frostbite did anything at first, they just stared at each other.

Snap reached up and touched one of his own pointed ears, in an unconscious gesture. Frostbite watched him do it, and from the look that crossed his face at that moment, I knew that it was going to be very hard for him to ever tell Snap 'no'.

I couldn't blame him ...but I did have the sudden urge for a smoke.

Frostbite:

He's here! He's really here! ...and uh... I'm here too.

Wow.

He has Monique's dark chestnut hair, but his face is mine, and the caution with which he's regarding me is definitely George.

-Funny how that all worked out.

It's taking Snap longer than I thought it would to remember that he's supposed to be angry.

...'Snap'...

I thought that name was a joke, but now I can see why he uses it. Snap moves sharply, and when he looks at something, he looks hard.

He's afraid, but he still won't look away.

Even if he weren't my son, this is not someone I'd want for an enemy.

He remembers.

"...Why?" Snap asks, searchingly.

"Why am I here, or wh-?" I begin.

"Why EVERYTHING!" Snap snarls back at me, finding his courage.

"I left because I had to, and I came back because I wanted to see you."

Snap is silent for a moment.

"That doesn't make any sense," he folds his arms over his chest, and glares at me with a mixture of accusation and confusion.

"I know, and I'm sorry," I tell him, simply.

Snap's face twists wordlessly, running through emotions like a string of firecrackers until he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

"That- -That's not good. Enough," he chokes.

"I thought you might say that," I sigh.

"Yeah- -no shit-"

"Snap?"

"..."

"I'm glad you have a brother."

Snap looks up at me, curiosity over the non-sequiter shading what was becoming blind anger back into the territory of questioning suspicion.

...I wasn't sure that would work.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Hooo-boy... If those two hadn't been so close to home for me, I would have been laughing my ass off.

Snap thought he was going to get a simple answer, and Frostbite thought he was talking to an adult. It was the battle royale of immovable adolescent pride versus unstoppable long-nourished angst, and I -lucky me- had just bought front-row season tickets.

Oddly, they seemed to reach some kind of unspoken truce after the brother comment. I didn't know whether or not Frostbite had ever had a brother, but I figured he must have been pretty lonely these past few years, to pay so much attention to whether or not Snap had been alone.

...Then again, maybe Antonio was just the only neutral topic Frostbite could think of to keep the conversation going.

"Tony's cool," Snap nodded, warily.

Their dialogue fell flat again, and they toed various mounds of snow for inspiration.

"Hey Frostbite," I called over, "-you never got around to telling me what you do."

"Do?"

"Yeah, as in 'job'?"

I caught the slight narrowing of Frostbite's eyes in my direction, but mercifully for him, Snap missed it.

Frostbite didn't HAVE a job at the moment. He knew it, and I knew it, and now he knew that I knew it, and vice-versa. And boy, was he pissed...

"I 'do' weather," Frostbite smiled slightly, and a few snowflakes began to fall through the air between us. Looking up, I realized that it was snowing as far as the eye could see, though the sky was blue and clear. "...and ice sculpture, and cryogenics, and lakes..." Frostbite suddenly realized that he was addressing an audience of two, and calmed down a bit, "-I've done a lot of different things, but what I'm best at is search and rescue."

"You mean like finding the guys who get lost on Mt. McKinley?" asked Snap, looking for a way back into the conversation.

"Exactly," Frostbite seemed encouraged by this question.

"Why haven't I ever seen you then?" challenged Snap, "-I've ripped just about every mountain with a frozen surface!"

"Because sometimes I'm doing other things, and just at a guess, you've never gotten lost on a snow-covered mountain."

Snap couldn't argue with that last one, but having discovered a weak spot in Frostbite's armor, he wasn't about to let it alone.

"What is it that you were doing that you won't tell me about?"

"You know that saying, 'I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you?'..." Frostbite replied, uncomfortably.

"Yeah I've heard it, but just how dumb do you think I am?" glared Snap.

"If I thought you were dumb-" Frostbite broke off, and looked down at the snow for a moment. Then he sighed, looked up, and began again in a quieter tone. "If you were dumb, you wouldn't be giving me this argument. I can see that you're not dumb."

"But...?"

"Some of your questions, I just can't answer without putting you in danger," Frostbite explained, seriously.

"Like hell," Snap spat.

"I can't make you believe anything you don't want to," Frostbite admitted, "but I'm not going to get you put on a HIT LIST just to get you to like me."

"Whatever," Snap shrugged. The snow was coming down thicker now, and during a particularly heavy swirl of whiteness, Frostbite vanished into it. Snap looked around quickly, saw nothing, and then turned to me with a look of horror on his face. "-Where did he go??"

"Couldn't tell ya."

"But- but-"

"FROST-BITE-YOU-GOD-DAMNED-WEASEL, THAT WAS -LOW-!!" I bellowed into the depths of the gathering storm, "-ARE YOU GONNA STICK TO YOUR WORD THIS TIME, OR -WHAT-??"

Snap looked at me quizzically, amusement momentarily overshadowing the anxiety that Frostbite had left... again.

There was a pause in the wind, and the storm quieted around us unnaturally, like the eye of a hurricane.

Frostbite reappeared about five feet to the left of where I'd lost track him.

"I'm not skipping town, Off-Ramp. We already settled THAT much yesterday," Frostbite reminded me.

"WE did, but you might wanna mention that to somebody ELSE before you go report back to the North pole or wherever!"

"I... -oh," Frostbite looked over at Snap with concern, "-I got the impression that you wanted the conversation to be over, but ahh... I'll still be around if you want to talk again some other time, eh?"

"Forget it," Snap said, firmly.

Frostbite's face fell.

"You won't get-"

"You're coming home with us right now," Snap decided.

Frostbite and I exchanged a panicked glance over Snap's head.

Then we looked at Snap, who looked both brave and hopeful.

Then we looked back at each other.

He didn't say it.

I didn't say it.

And in this way, the second truce of the afternoon was struck.

Decision made, I opened a gateway, and the three of us went home.

* * *

Frostbite:

Warmth.

It's the first thing I notice.

I step through the familiar blue gateway after Snap, into a carpeted living room. Off-Ramp goes through last, moving as though he's escorting a prisoner. He is.

Hmm... George's taste hasn't changed much, I see. Their couch looks like it's been used for a space shuttle launching pad. Just the sort of thing that you can put your boots up on the arm of without thinking twice about it.

It's so warm in here.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

I am doomed.

Frostbite's been in town for less than twenty-four hours now, and he's already takin' over my house! -With Snap's blessing, of course.

This situation is stacking up like a house of cards, and personally I don't feel like playing.

Seriously, it's like watching crash footage. Everything seems to be going SO well, and then...

Ahh, hell. -It's still fun to watch.

Snap's bedroom, for example:

"-And this is where I live. Try not to step on any, um, piles. Brutus is still on the loose, so-"

"Brutus?" echoes Frostbite.

"My king snake."

"-Ah," Frostbite looks around at the drifts of dirty clothes and half-finished projects on the floor of Snap's room with a newfound level of suspicion.

"Usually he's in that cage over there, but he's pretty resourceful," Snap explains.

Frostbite looks up at the ceiling.

"Is that why you have the hammock?"

"Nahh, that's just something I do because I feel like it. Hey, I wonder if-" Snap looks thoughtful for a moment, then he's suddenly standing in front of Frostbite with his hand pressed against the side of Frostbite's face. Snap's back where he was first standing before either of us can blink. "I knew it. You're the same temperature as me."

"Freezin'-ass cold..." I mutter under my breath.

Frostbite gives me a side-long look, but doesn't comment. -I'd forgotten about those ears of his, he can hear a candy wrapper crinkle through a foot of concrete.

...But Snap doesn't seem to have heard anything, which means that whoever this 'Monique' person is, her hearing range is pretty close to normal. -Another point for the theory that she's human.

I wander away around the time Snap starts describing the plot of 'The Lord of the Rings'.

Opening a ramp to a certain patch of water located in the Gulf of Mexico, I step through onto the heli-pad of a deserted oil rig. The late afternoon sun falls hot on my face, and the only sounds I can hear are the crash of the waves on the rusting pilings below my feet, and the cries of the surprised gulls wheeling over head.

* * *

Frostbite:

I don't know who taught Snap to talk, but it definitely wasn't George. It's all I can do to keep up with him, but I hardly feel like slowing down. I suspect this won't last, but for now we speak the same language- -quickly. Within the past half hour, I've learned about the relative merits of Stockholm, Michigan, and Rome. I've also learned that Brutus eats mice (fresh-caught, if possible), and that Snap worships the Harley-Davidson company as a god.

Snap is easy to talk to.

Too easy.

I found myself telling him about the fate of the 'White Crane', an Irish sailing ship that I'd found ice-bound on the Northern rim of Hudson Bay. It is a sad story, but also something of a murder mystery, because the captain's record of what had occurred on board didn't match half the evidence I found. -The scene in the galley, for instance. According to the logbook, the third mate was the first among the officers to die, but I found the man who matched his description head down at the galley table, which points to him having been one of the LAST to die. Snap came up with the theory that the actual last man to die had gone raving mad, decided that HE was the captain, and started writing the remainder of the Captain's logbook based on his own delusions.

"Well, that would explain the Selkie..." I admitted.

"You're kidding, right?" Snap looked at me skeptically.

"Yes," I grinned.

"Great. Was any of that story true?" sighed Snap, downcast.

I blinked.

In the whirlwind of easy camaraderie we'd established, I hadn't realized that Snap was still taking everything I said literally. Damn it, that is not what I meant to do!

"Yeah, most of it was. The 'White Crane' is on display at a museum in Ottawa, unless they've taken it on tour or something," I told him.

Neither of us said anything for a minute or two.

"Sorry about that," Snap apologized, finally.

"...Don't," I told him.

"Come on, I mean... you finally tell me something about your past, and I call you a liar..."

"Snap?"

"Yes?"

"Don't."

Snap looked at me strangely.

"You're serious."

"About this, I am. It's not your fault that you don't trust me. Never think otherwise."

"...You think you have this all figured out, don't you?" Snap observed.

"Maybe and maybe not, but I've got a pretty good idea of what DOESN'T thaw situations like these," I shrugged.

"I've got it!" Snap exclaimed.

"--What?"

"I know how to get Brutus back in his tank."

"How?"

"Heat lamp."

* * *

Off-Ramp:

The house was silent when I got home. Snap's door was shut, and all the lights were off except for the one in the kitchen. Frostbite was stretched out along the length of the couch asleep, completely still except for the slight rise and fall of his chest, and the quick, flickering motions that his eyes made beneath closed blue lids.

I created a quiet micro-portal, and checked Snap's room. He was asleep too.

...So far, so good, apparently.

It took me a long time to get to sleep that night, and when I finally did, I dreamed.

The only thing that I remember clearly from those dreams was the touch of cool, smooth fingers moving down the skin of my face, and I blame that entirely on Brutus.

Brutus opted to crawl into bed with me sometime during the night, and I woke up the next morning to find him coiled in a contented ball against the warm pulse of my throat.

* * *

Frostbite:

"WHAT THE -FUCK- ARE YOU DOING IN MILWAUKEE?!"

I hold the receiver as far away from my ear as possible until Off-Ramp's done yelling.

"Never mind that, just come and get me, please?" I say, tiredly.

Silence.

Click.

I sigh, and hang up the phone. Outside the glass walls of the phone booth, the lights of downtown Milwaukee are beginning to go out.

Maybe I should have waited until it was daylight to call him.

'Maybe' -HA!

...He's going to kill me.

So why did I call him...?

"Because you could," yawns Grisham, interrupting my thoughts.

"I wasn't asking -you-." I growl back.

"So don't think so loud!" Grisham laughs, "-and by the way, I do know you're trying to kill me, so stop agonizing about it."

"..."

"-Not that I blame you, of course. My company can become tiresome, or so I've been lead to believe..."

"Grisham, I've been wondering something."

"Yes? -This ought to be good..."

"Where will you go if you die?"

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Milwaukee.

Thousands of cities and two countries in this area, and he calls me from Milwaukee.

The streets are deserted at this hour, which is good, all things considered. I don't know what kind of trouble Frostbite is in, but unless he levels with me... well, I'll just have to take a peek for myself, won't I?

He's standing against a phone booth, head down. The snow that fell last night has left a sprinkling of stars on the shadow of his dark blue hair, un-melted. -And he hasn't tied his hair back in the ponytail, for a change.

Frostbite's clothes are different too. Light blue sweatpants, a black 'Hard Rock Cafe: Toronto Skydome' t-shirt, and black high-top sneakers.

"You look like shit." I observe. He looks up, and looks surprised to see me there, but recovers quickly.

"Ah, the charm of an honest opinion."

I see a long sparring session around the corner, so I cut to the chase.

"Frostbite, if I had any sense I wouldn't be here at all."

"Why are you then?"

"To see if I can get a straight answer out of you. Snap's not here, it's just us. What are you in to?"

"What am I 'in to'?" Frostbite echoes.

"Yeah, that's what I said. Answer it."

"I can't. What I told snap about hit lists applies to you too."

I grab him by the shoulders, slam him against the phone booth, and demand,

"Where do you get off thinking I can't protect my own?!"

"Ever the watchman at the gates..." Frostbite whispers, strangely.

I drop him into the snow beside the phone booth, disgusted.

"What is it, and how long have you been snorting it?"

Frostbite picks himself up, looking a little more in touch with reality.

"It's not that simple. If it was, I would have dealt with this -long- ago."

"So what -IS- this almighty IT you keep talkin' about??"

"There are some things that-" Frostbite begins.

"You know what?" I interrupt, holding up a hand, "-just stop. Just- -forget it, okay? You're WALKIN' home!"

I turn my back on him, and walk through a ramp into a nightclub in Istanbul.

...Which in hindsight was pretty stupid, because it's only one in the afternoon in Istanbul, and the club is closed.

* * *

Frostbite:

Damn.

WHY can't I do this RIGHT??

I'm BACK, I'm TRYING, I'm- -in Milwaukee...

Damn.

I start walking.

It's a beautiful morning, and as the city wakes up I feel like smiling at everyone I see. Just a week ago, that was me. I make a point of enjoying days like this, because I never know when I'm going to wake up a hundred miles away, and remember...

No.

Today is not about the last few days, or about last year, or about forever, for that matter. Today is just about today.

On the outskirts of town, I start running.

Slowly, at first. Then faster, as I leave the sidewalks behind and head out into open country.

I pass a long row of cranberry bushes.

A small town flashes by between one breath and the next.

I am flying-

It's quiet out here, and it's quiet in my head, too.

Up ahead I see a low hill, unremarkable except that the slope of it looks just about perfect. I run towards it, and up the first part of the incline-

-I am fooling the hill into thinking I will pass right over it...

And then I find where I need to be, and I allow my foot to turn just a few degrees too far before it lands again, and then I'm falling, rolling, cutting into the snow-pack like a drill-bit...

Until it's quiet again, and I can feel the sheltering warmth of heavy, compacted snow pressing against my wind-chilled skin.

Safe.

I am sitting in a snow-bank somewhere outside of Milwaukee, and as I realize that I'm going to see my son again before the day is out, I start to cry- -because I've never had so much to lose.

* * *

Antonio:

"So how did it go?" I asked.

Papa shrugged, roughly. He had told me about Frostbite wanting to meet Snap a couple of days ago, but this was the first I'd heard from either of them since then. Mama was inside, which is where she usually is whenever Papa's around, and the rain that had blown in off the Mediterranean this morning was still coming down in vertical glassy sheets, so we had the porch to ourselves.

Papa was smoking.

"Snap met 'im, they hit it off, and Frostbite's still the same irresponsible jerk that he always was."

-Papa punctuated this last comment by blowing a lungful of smoke out through his nose.

"You think he'll stick around this time?"

"That's the thing I don't understand."

-He didn't elaborate.

I didn't ask.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" I said, instead.

"Probably Holland. -I'll let you know where to come party-crashing," he promised.

"And the horde?" I grinned.

"Well, that would have to be arranged very carefully, wouldn't it..."

Papa reminded me, dubiously.

-Which meant that he hadn't decided whether to tell any of his old team-mates about Frostbite yet.

"How badly is Frostbite screwed up, exactly?" I asked.

Papa drew on his cigarette again before answering.

"I don't know. Bad, I think."

"Want any help?"

"No, I can handle him," Papa thought for a moment, then added, "-Snap might need some brotherly advice, though."

"Got it," I nodded.

Papa looked over at me sidelong, and smiled slowly, as if he was reading a sign that I couldn't see. Then he came over and put his arm around my shoulders, and we watched the rain.

He didn't say anything else, not even sometime later, when he left.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

One of these days, I'm gonna wake up, and that kid'll be faster than me. -Tony's dealing beautifully.

I don't know how much of my history with Frostbite he knows, but I'm going on the assumption that he's got a pretty good idea.

-It's hard to hide things from us gateway-types.

Speaking of which...

I cross my boots over the arm of the couch, put my hands behind my head, and start looking.

It's easy at first, just tracks leading away from the phone booth. I lose them in traffic, but find something even better on the edge of town. Tracks that turn into a kind of trough in the snow, increasingly symmetrical as the speed at which they had to have been made increases. Speed like this, you rip up the snow into a plume behind you, and when that settles, it covers the footprints. I do a series of bird's-eye jumps, following the loose snail-trail across empty lots, then fields, then wide-open grassland. There's about a twenty-foot gap in the trail every time it intersects with a fence, because fences... well, they don't mean a lot to somebody who's capable of outrunning most birds in flight. I smirk, as I continue my search.

Frostbite is fast.

Junior once dragged Frostbite and me out to the Bonneville salt flats to see just HOW fast, but he had to cut his experiment short when Frostbite started getting sick. Concentrated salt and snow-elves, apparently, do not mix.

Ah! There...

There's an indention in the snow, and as I 'ramp in closer, I see that it's not just an -indention-, it's a freakin' CRATER.

...Fuck.

He's doing it again.

-But after a moment, I see a clearer set of tracks, these leading away from the impact-site.

I'm close.

Over the next hill I find a long, narrow pond.

One with a hole punched in the ice.

O-kay, so somebody wanted a bath...

I wait.

Frostbite surfaces at the air-hole like a seal, breathes, then dives back under the ice. While I'm waiting around for him to surface again, I notice that his clothes are laying out on a snow bank at the edge of the pond. I leave them alone. -I was never here, after all.

There's a crash from the other end of the pond, and Frostbite bursts upwards through what's probably at least a foot and a half of solid freshwater ice. He rises halfway out of the water, as white chunks fall around him, fist raised in the air from the initial punch.

Then he submerges again, and reappears at the original hole.

He folds his arms on the edge, and rests his chin on top them with a kind of post-blow-up tranquility.

Finally, he chins himself on the side of the hole, climbs out, and I get a few of my questions answered.

Niiiice...

And then he's shedding a small flurry of snowflakes and hail, as he dries himself off by quick-freezing the water into thousands of tiny beads.

As the last of it falls away, I notice the blue-white line of a scar on the side of Frostbite's lower back, but it's not until he turns around that-

... ...

-Oh my god.

That scar has friends. Lots of 'em. His entire chest looks like a crossword puzzle, and there's even a few as low as the fronts of his thighs. With that much damage, he's lucky he didn't lose anything-

-which he didn't. ...Hmm.

These can't have all been inflicted at once, but it looks like battle damage... These aren't regular or symmetrical enough for torture.

-I think. Man, it's a wonder he's still alive...

Frostbite, what the hell did you go up against?

The sun winks off a lone point of gold in his right nipple.

-Some things never change.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Snap is on the phone in the kitchen.

"Hi Cheryl, it's me-"

Pause.

"-Ahh, who needs one?"

Pause.

"Well, I-"

Longer pause.

"Oh. Think he'll let you spend part of the holidays here if, y'know, transportation wasn't a problem...?"

"You would? I mean, that's a great idea!"

Pause.

"What?"

Pause.

"No, he's out right now."

Pause.

"No, no, no, he is comin' back-"

Pause.

"Yeah, but he's my dad. -According to Tony, you only get two of those."

Pause.

"You mean my dad or my, um... father?"

Pause.

"He's... kinda confused or something."

Pause.

"Yes, he does! He called up a snow-storm like he was ordering pizza, and-"

Pause.

"Mmmmmmaybe. Why?"

Pause.

"...I hadn't thought of that."

Pause.

"No -way-."

Pause.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to him lately."

Pause.

"...It's kinda complicated."

Pause.

"Look, why don't I just meet you there?"

Pause.

"Okay. Dress warm."

Pause.

"Hey, that's my EAR, you know."

Pause.

"Um, Cheryl?"

Short pause.

"Um... Nothing. I'll see you there."

Click!

Snap walks past me on his way out the door, and jumps. He tiptoes up to the couch, and waves a hand in front of my face. I can feel the motion in the air, but I keep my eyes closed. Snap time-freezes, and the door is now unlocked. A moment later, he's gone.

* * *

Frostbite:

At the corner of Sixth and Brennan, there's a Christmas tree lot.

I found it by accident, because Alan- -the guy who owns it- -happened to look up at the wrong moment, see me, wonder if he should lay off the eggnog, and momentarily forget about the tree he was unloading off a truck.

That kind of stuff happens all the time.

It happens less now that I've taken to wearing human clothes, but it still happens.

-I don't take it personally.

I've learned to minimize the damage people do to themselves and others at times like these, because it's not their fault, they're just surprised. ...That and they tend to get really ugly afterwards if I just stand there.

Alan was one of those people who recovers quickly, and the fact that I'd stopped the Christmas tree from nailing him in the head by jamming a snow-bank around it didn't hurt at all. We got to talking afterwards, and he offered me a job working with him on the lot. I gave him a wry smile.

"It's the ears, isn't it?"

"'Tis the season," Alan shrugged, honestly.

He wasn't patronizing me, and he had a sense of humor.

I could work with this guy.

"Okay, I'll do it. It'll be a good way to meet people," I told him.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Frostbite has moved in.

I don't know where he IS half the time, but he has definitely moved in.

This's -ridiculous-.

Where is he now-? I check all over the house, and finally find Frostbite sitting outside on the top of a wooden fence. Snap is out there with him, and they're talking again.

This is not going to be fun.

I take a walk, and come back an hour later.

Frostbite's on his own, leaning against the fence thoughtfully.

"Hey."

"George," he looks up. He's in a good mood, but I am not, and that doesn't escape him.

"So... what's the deal?" I ask.

"Deal?" he asks, too quickly.

"Are you just gonna live here, or what?"

"You want me to pay you?" he guesses, puzzled.

"No."

"You want me to live somewhere else," he realizes.

"Yeah."

"..." He looks deeply disappointed, but not especially surprised. "...Okay."

"Right."

"Do I still get to see Snap?"

"Wha-? Yes, of course. Come on, man...!" ...What has he been doing, taking lessons from daytime T.V.?

"I- -just thought I'd ask."

"Frostbite..."

"I'm just trying not-"

"Frostbite! Shut up!" I yell, cutting him off.

Frostbite shuts up.

"You sticking' around, you gettin' to know your son, that's fine..." I begin.

"But...?"

"Don't ask me to live with you."

"Ah," he nods once, understanding.

We look at each other. Then we look away. Then we look back.

I shrug, unapologetically.

"See you around, then," Frostbite concedes, amiably.

Sometimes, I wish I could open up a 'ramp into his HEAD.

* * *

Frostbite:

So I've burned a few bridges.

Okay, so I've... burned a -lot- of bridges.

...Frozen ...whatever.

Actually, I like frozen better, because frozen things are still there, you just can't use them at the moment. -Typical me.

Something is bothering George, and I think that's what it is- -the bridges. The last time anything drove over those, it was George that got burned.

I ...never meant to do that.

I mean, what we had together was never permanent... but it was pretty good. And ironically, that's why I gave him Selekarinin. I knew I could trust him.

As for now... I was half surprised he didn't try to kill me on the spot, when we ran into each other on that highway. At first I thought he was just playing along and waiting for me to screw up again so he could off me justifiably, but then I realized that what he thought- -or didn't think- -of me wasn't the point. He's doing this for Snap.

George has become Snap's father in ways that I never can be, and part of that is allowing Snap to have me for a dad too.

I owe both of them an explanation, big-time.

"So tell him," an amused voice suggested. -Grisham, damn him.

"Don't insult my intelligence."

"Frostbite, please! You and your scrofulous accomplice make a very formidable team. -The two of you together might just manage to take me down..."

"-And in the mean-time, you'd be hunting Snap!" I retorted, "-I don't think so."

"...A deal is a deal," agreed Grisham, sadly, "-but consider this: how long will you be able to stay here before..."

"Do I have to bring up Milwaukee? I've already learned how to keep YOU on a short leash."

"You know, it's funny. Monique said almost exactly the same thing to me once," Grisham informed me, gleefully.

"Monique was -human-," I told him, coldly.

"So very just..." Grisham whispered.

-


	2. Chapter 2

YHIL:Footprints to Nowhere, chapter 2.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

The phone rings.

"Off-Ramp," I answer.

"Hi, George," says Junior.

"BEN! Where'd you dissappear to?"

"Very funny."

"-Seriously!-"

"Well, I've been kind of busy lately..."

"...Tell me ...Renquist's ...with you?" I pleaded.

"Yeah, he's still abiding by the conditions of his house arrest."

"Does he actually work with you, or just sit in the corner and plot?"

"A little of both," sighed Junior, "-and he's not the easiest man to work with."

"Do tell," I grinned.

"Actually, the reason I called is that we'd like to borrow Snap for a while."

"Doesn't everybody. Look Ben, I know you're really into this time travel thing but I wouldn't trust Renquist with an unsharpened pencil."

"Hm."

"-Now if you wanna come HERE and talk each other's ears off..."

"Give me five minutes to secure Ricky."

"Heh."

I hung up. Junior has the weirdest job in the world, and I wouldn't wish it on anybody.

Five minutes later, I stepped through into Junior's lab.

* * *

Frostbite:

I really hope this job gets better.

While I have worked on Christmas tree lots before, this is different because everybody knows me- -or at least they THINK they do.

It seems like half the town is curious, and the other half just wants to tell me off.

-Snap has a lot of friends.

"Aren't you-"

"Yes."

The latest perpetrator is a thirty something woman with dark blonde hair.

"Ahh... long day?" she guesses, smiling.

"Something like that. Are you looking for a tree?"

"We sure are. Lisa-?" she turns to ...nobody. Then sighs.

"Excuse me. Disappearing kid effect."

She heads off into the Scotch pine section purposefully. That wasn't so bad...

The other people on the lot seem to be happy enough on their own, so I form a small chunk of ice, and start shaping it. A swan emerges, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Small glittering wings, feet tucked up against it's body, and a delicate curve of neck. It seems to be looking at something out in front of it.

I tuck the swan into a crook of the nearest tree, as the woman I talked to earlier returns. 'Lisa' is about waist-high, looks sullen, but is curious about what I've just put in the tree. She goes over to investigate.

Mrs. whoever starts asking about the tree again, but after a few minutes I realize that she's hitting on me.

I have mixed feelings about this.

On the one hand it's flattering, and it is fun to be hit on...

But the other, her quick interest gets me wondering about whether she's thought about Snap like this. And that worries me.

As they leave, I notice Lisa slipping the swan into a pocket of her jacket.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

"But what if I'm not traveling in time at all?" Snap asked. "What if I'm just really hyper? What happens to your theory then?"

"If that were the case, I'd have to start over," Junior admitted, "-but as far as any existing instruments I know of can measure, you aren't actually traveling forwards or backwards in time, you're moving sideways through it."

"So it's like a slope thing."

"Exactly. Most people move forward in time and space at the same rate, 1 to 1. Speedsters like the Flash have a higher degree of slope to that line when they're using their super speed, sometimes having access to thousands of practical seconds for every one second that expires for everyone else. -So we'll call that slope infinity0 to 1. Your slope during a time-freeze is actually vertical: zero to one."

"Are you saying I could outrun the Flash?" grinned Snap.

"No, this is not your basic temporal stream. Got a piece of paper?" asked Junior.

I reached into the drawer of a desk upstairs, and got him one.

"-Thanks. Now as I was saying, your slope during a time-freeze would be zero to one, but only for the duration of the freeze. Your freezes last- -what?"

"Mostly one to three seconds, but I can't predict it. I've gone as long as five seconds, once."

"And how much time does it take to recharge?" Junior was taking notes.

Snap frowned.

"It's not a matter of recharging, more like... remembering to blink or something."

"But it does take time after each freeze to start another one?"

"I guess..."

"How much?"

Snap checked his watch, flickered a few times, then checked it again.

"Just under a second," he reported.

"Good," Junior nodded, jotting that down, "-so this is why: take the average of zero times three and just under a second."

"M. Just over three times faster than normal-"

"-Practical speed. Technically, you ARE faster than the Flash, but he'd beat you in a foot-race," Junior rolled the pencil across the table to Snap. Snap picked it up, and started twirling it in his fingers.

"Still cool," Snap decided.

This is starting to make sense to me. If Junior's got his facts straight, then Snap bends time the same way I bend space.

-Snap probably hasn't reached the full extent of his abilities yet either, since they only surfaced six months ago.

Hmm... I wonder if different dimensions have time zones?

"Question," I said.

"Hm?"

"Could Frostbite's cold powers have something to do with slowing down molecules? That's what makes things cold, right?"

"Molecular vibrational frequency IS heat. But if that's the connection..." Junior grabbed the pencil back, and attacked his piece of scratch paper, forgetting all else. -Bonfire calls this his 'mad scientist space'. Ben does this a lot, especially since he returned to normal human size. I think something about having to scale a fifty-foot wall every time he wanted a cup of coffee was keeping him grounded, but now...

"About the Christmas party, I should just come pick you up, right?" I interrupted him.

"Wh- -Oh, yeah. That'll be fine," Junior didn't look up as he said this.

Snap and I exchanged an uneasy glance.

* * *

Snap:

Well, here we are. Holland.

-This place is a ZOO!

Not as bad as that year we did Christmas in Tokyo, but still...

Tony's not here yet. He said he would be, but he probably meant after things quiet down in Italy. Rita couldn't make it this year either, thank god... most of the former Young Heroes are okay, but -that- woman could give a jabberwocky nightmares.

My dad's here, though...

Both of them.

YYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!

Thank you, thank you, -yeah, I'm fine- thank you.

Whew.

It's not just me that can't believe it, either. Bonfire started crying the moment she stepped through the ramp, and Scott went non-verbal, and my father got hugged a lot. And then Bonfire heat-blasted him in the face. -Beware redheads, for they are subtle, and quick to anger.

Scott took it better, I think.

...Actually, I'm not sure Scott 'took' it at all. He just saw his old friend Frostbite, and was glad to see him.

That's it. Instant forgiveness. No questions, no lectures, no lightning bolts, just "Welcome back, man."

I don't think there's anybody else on the planet like Scott.

Then again, if you're going to deal with Bonfire's kids on a daily basis, you'd BETTER have some patience.

I don't know where Casey disappeared to, but Benny and Kyle are bivouacked underneath the dining room table drawing what they think are battle plans, and Josh is doing his level best to drive me crazy.

Rug rats... -Sheesh.

I do kinda like Melanie, though. She's this tiny little thing with alarmingly red hair, and if you sit still long enough, she'll work up the courage to climb into your lap. -She's mostly hiding behind Bonfire at the moment.

My father was really surprised by the whole Scott-Bonfire kid thing. I don't know if it was the unexpectedness, or the number, or the fact that four out of five of them jumped him, but he looked kinda... paralyzed. I would have given him a heads-up beforehand, but I assumed dad had already told him.

That would have made sense, you know?

I don't get it. I know that there's a lot of bad blood between my two dads, but- -not even mentioning the golden horde? That's harsh. ...It's almost like he tried to set him up.

Dad did tell Frostbite about Zip-Kid getting killed by the Cybertron Sergeant, but that's something that could have hurt Junior big-time if he hadn't.

A ramp starts to open in the center of the room. That'll be dad with Hard Drive. My father, -who's gravitated over to the Christmas tree for some reason- looks up at the spinning blue disc apprehensively.

Hard Drive takes one look at my father, grimaces in what looks like some serious pain, and screams.

* * *

Frostbite:

"SHIELD!" I barked, sharply.

Hard Drive gripped the back of the couch beside him for balance, and screwed his eyes shut tight. Then he took a deep breath, and let it out again.

"What. Was. THAT?" he demanded, through gritted teeth.

"What were -you- doing in my thoughts?" I countered.

"I wasn't IN your thoughts, Frostbite. I was reading your surface emotions, and that's low-level EMPATHY at best," growled Hard-Drive.

"That's still-" began George, defensively.

"That's ILLEGAL!" Hard Drive was regaining his composure, and he was hopping mad. "Do you have any idea what the sentence is for putting up a- -what was that, a CLASS SIX FEEDBACK SHIELD?- -at the surface level?"

The room had gotten very quiet.

"Class six?" echoed Junior, quietly.

"Yeah, and he's not even a registered telepath," Hard Drive spat.

I felt the wrenchingly familiar sensation of Bonfire nudging the edge of our old telepathic link.

"Don't!" I exclaimed.

Bonfire backed off, and bit her lip unhappily. Thunderhead folded his arms over his chest, and gave me an 'own-up-or-be-thumped' glare. Snap put his hand on the shoulder of the silent blonde-headed kid in front of him, and watched the scene unfold.

"Maybe he's not registered because he's not a telepath," George pointed out.

"Then who put that shield-?" Hard Drive began.

"An old enemy," I interrupted, "-one who believed strongly in the policy of scorched earth."

"-Believes- my dear boy, -believes-" corrected Grisham.

"Does this bogie have a name?" asked George.

'Get stuffed' I thought back to Grisham.

"Not my area of-" began Grisham, impishly.

"Excuse me, I'm trying to have a conversation, here!" I snapped at Grisham... -Out loud, unfortunately.

"Tou-chy!" George glared at me, "-just tryin' to help, ya know?"

"...I know. I'm sorry, that's just- -not a good subject for me."

"Huh," George didn't buy that for a minute.

A second ramp opened, this one in the wall behind where Snap was standing, and Tony walked through.

Nobody moved.

Tony looked around the room, his gaze resting in particular on Hard Drive, George, and me.

"Is this a bad time?" he asked, finally.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Yes, I'd say that's a fair description of what's happening here.

So much for my freakin' Christmas party.

"Tell ya what, Tony... why don't you and Snap take the wee folk off somewhere fun for an hour or so while we hash this thing out?"

Tony swears under his breath in Italian, and looks very annoyed.

Thunderhead looks down at his youngest daughter, who is hiding her face against his knee, frightened. He picks her up, and whispers something in her ear comfortingly. Then he turns to me, Frostbite, and Hard Drive, and his eyes flash.

Literally.

"I think I'll come with you," he tells Tony, "-who wants to go with us?"

Sixty seconds later, Scott and the assorted offspring have left.

I'm ready to strangle Hard Drive. Turning on Frostbite like a rabid dog with our KIDS in the room? Just because HE never had any- -And FROSTBITE...!

Dead. The both of them.

* * *

Frostbite:

This room is splitting along a razor's edge.

"Now just hang on a minute," Junior makes a 'T' with his hands, "-having blown ONE end of this day, do you really want to keep -going-?"

"..." I open my mouth to answer, but then think better of it. I have yet to earn my voice here.

I guess I was projecting that, because Hard Drive looks surprised all of a sudden. No, wait...

He's looking at Off-Ramp.

And he's scared.

Oh, of course. All this time I've been gone Hard Drive has held the moral high ground, and now that I'm back he's afraid of becoming the odd man out again.

No wonder he scanned me on sight.

-This is a delicate balance that I've just upset.

It's ironic, but Hard Drive is the only one who might be able to help me now.

Helping me would serve his purposes too.

"Or more likely, he'll play the hero and kill you off on the spot," Grisham points out, tactfully.

That's when I know.

...Forgive me.

"Grisham," I say out loud.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

At first I think it's a trick of the light.

Then I realize that Frosty really IS going gargoyle on us.

...Aww, shit.

It takes maybe three seconds. Frostbite goes from his normal 'ripped snow-elf' state to something that, while it still has light blue skin, also has an impressive set of claws, wings, a tail, etc.

This is not good.

It does explain a lot though, like where his clothes keep disappearing to (they're kinda damaged at the moment), and what he meant by, 'There are some things-'

-Some 'things' indeed.

A Gargoyle. Whew.

...And he waited until he had me and Bonfire and Hard Drive all in the same room before he pulled this stunt, so this 'thing' must pack some serious firepower.

Fair enough.

Bonfire and Hard Drive attack simultaneously, and Junior dives behind the couch. The gargoyle-thing is too fast for them, blasting a jet of liquid ice out of it's hand towards the floor, and using that as a vaulting-pole to leap over the pyrotechnic and kinetic blasts. The temperature in the room starts dropping like a stone, and jack-frost crackles over the surface of the windows in seconds.

I'm never gonna get my deposit back on this place.

I open up a ramp around an obscure Himalayan mountain peak, letting no more than three inches of the tip of the peak through the gate, and place it in- -okay, I'm gonna say it- -Frostbite's path. Which is tricky, because he's running along the wall. Frostbite trips, and sails past me to impact against the wood-work above the mantelpiece. One of the barbs on the tips of his wings has left a deep gouge in the plaster of the ceiling.

Bonfire attacks again, and this time he stops her directly, blasting her with an icicle-based attack. I open a ramp over a natural gas geyser, and put the other end in the back wall of the fireplace behind him. The jet ignites, and I have to close the ramp quickly before ALL of us get fried.

Hard Drive, meanwhile, has been forming a telekinetic bubble.

He has him.

Captured: one slightly singed and very pissed off snow-elf-based gargoyle.

* * *

Frostbite:

There's not much I can do from this position.

I only wish the same was true of Grisham.

He's/I'm not moving, though, and I don't know why.

He/we stand up within Hard Drive's containment shell, and regard my friends levelly.

"You're Grisham." realizes George.

"Sir Henry Grisham, to be precise," I hear myself say.

"Yeah, whatever. What are you?" asks George.

'Sir Henry Grisham? Give me a break, that's just the name of your first human!' I say to Grisham.

'Sticks and stones...' Grisham responds.

"Where shall I begin... England? Canada? Back when I first joined up with your ridiculous posse?-" Grisham lists, aloud.

I see a flicker of shock pass over George's face, and within the confines of my own mind, I scream.

"He's lying," interrupts Hard Drive, "-this personality wasn't here back when I first scanned Frostbite's mind."

"Was that before or after you had a mental breakdown?" Grisham asks, innocently.

"Both," admits Hard Drive.

"Answer my goddamn question!" George snarls at Grisham.

"What am I?" Grisham considers, then laughs, "-I'm a DEMON, what does it LOOK like I am?"

-And with that, he reaches out one of his/my claws, and tears at Hard Drive's containment shield vertically. It gives way with a sound like that of ripping wet leather.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

I did NOT just see that.

What, ON this planet or OFF of it, can rip holes in a TELEKINETIC FIELD??

No time.

Grisham/Frostbite lunges for me, and I barely have time to block, let alone think. I lash out with my right foot, and he shreds the side of my boot without half trying. Oh well, that's why I wear them.

Ow... I think he got more than just my boot.

Hard Drive makes a telekinetic wall, and tries to smash Grisham/Frostbite into a corner. He escapes, and this time goes after Bonfire. She torches him skillfully, but she's having trouble keeping up with him. If only there was a way of making him stand STILL for a second or five...

Somewhere in there, I have to believe that Frostbite's still on our side... but we can always put 'im back together later.

I open a ramp that floods Frostbite's end of the room with high-pressure lava, and just as I hoped he would, he lashes out with cold in all directions.

1...

There's a sound like the explosion of an small aircraft carrier, and a second later the room is filled with steam, and I'm surrounded by a shiny red bubble.

2, 3, 4...

My bubble drifts, and bumps against and merges with the one containing Hard Drive, Junior and Bonfire. I can't see a thing in here!

5, 6, 7, 8...

I open the wall with the window by making a ramp on either side of it. Cold, clear air from outside begins to clear the room.

9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15-

I step through a second ramp into the harmless-looking mist in front of me, and I'm hit by a blast of heat that takes my breath away.

The air cools down enough to breathe after a moment or two.

16, 17, 18...

* * *

Frostbite:

...19, 20-

It's breaking my eardrums.

Creaking and cracking and grinding and contracting and booming in time with the cold that it hits, the lava settles itself around me.

There's some kind of metal mixed in with the rock, and I can't break out.

...21, 22, 23, 24-

I've never been buried in lava before.

...25, 26, 27-

I might survive it, but I do not like it.

I'm viscerally terrified, but that comes with a small measure of satisfaction, because Grisham is in just as much trouble as I am.

...28, 29-

"Oh you poor, masochistic BASTARD!" agrees Grisham, sarcastically, "-do you have any idea what being DEAD is like?"

...30, 31, 32-

"No, I don't. Good thing I brought a guide, eh?"

...33, 34-

"Perhaps you'll even get to meet Monique..." Grisham whispers.

...34, 35, 36, 37-

"I had that figured out a long time ago, you know."

...38-

"Did you?..." Grisham sounds almost pleased.

...39, 40-

"That Monique was just you playing games? Oh, yeah. Something about the way her body -died- a moment after you showed up in my head, I think."

...41, 42-

"I seem to be fresh out of gold stars," apologizes Grisham, deadpan.

...43, 44, 45-

"There is one thing I never understood, though..." I admit, carefully.

...46, 47, 48-

"Amuse me."

...49, 50, 51-

"Why Snap? Why bother with a kid?"

...52, 53-

"You really have no idea whatsoever of how long we could have lived, do you?" sighed Grisham, "-that's why I chose you, you fool."

...54, 55-

"So amuse ME...?" I coax.

...56-

"I had a theory to the effect that if you killed you own son, you'd stay nicely tucked in our collective subconscious for at least the first three hundred years or so."

...57, 58, 59, 60, 61-

"I remember you mentioning that you wanted me to," I shrugged, mentally.

...62, 63-

"'Mentioning'..." chuckles Grisham, "-I do believe you're acquiring my gift for understatement, Frostbite."

...64, 65, 66, 67, 68-

"Grisham?"

...69-

"Yes?"

...70-

"Well played. I didn't think I'd actually have to die to kill you."

...71, 72-

"You're so naive..." Grisham tells me, disgustedly.

...73, 74, 75-

"I- I think I'm blacking out."

...76, 77, 78-

"See you in a minute," snorts Grisham.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

"WHAT IS YOUR DAMAGE??" I yell, "You crack that thing open -NOW-, and don't pretend you can't!"

"You're being unreasonable," Hard drive says, folding his arms across his chest.

"You wanna see UNREASONABLE?-"

"We're not just dealing with Frostbite, don't you see? He's not the dominant personality, and he won't be even if I do 'save' him," argues Hard Drive.

"We can always kill him later if you're right," I point out.

"And if you don't at least let us find out, we will never forgive you," adds Bonfire. I nod my agreement firmly.

"Very well," Hard Drive telekinetically breaks a substantial chunk off of the indistinctly-shaped winged statue standing in the middle of the room.

Revealed inside the stone shell, Frostbite's face has reverted to normal. There's an half-inch-thick coating of ice over his face, which I break open with my hands.

He's still not breathing.

Bonfire and I exchange glances. She points a finger carefully, and flames him for a moment. Judging from the distinctly sunburn-blue shade of Frostbite's skin, he may wish he hadn't lived through this...

-If- he lives through this, that is.

Bonfire's gambit works, but when Frostbite opens his eyes, he's Grisham. Hard Drive gasps in surprise, and Grisham looks suddenly worried.

"His shields are down!" Hard Drive exclaims.

"Grisham's?" asks Bonfire, quickly.

"Grisham's!" confirms Hard Drive. "Do it!"

I don't know exactly WHAT Bonfire and Hard drive did then, but I think it was difficult, and when they opened their eyes, they looked fairly pleased with themselves.

And Frostbite was back.

* * *

Frostbite:

"Thank you. So. Much."

"I wish I could say 'anytime', but that just ain't true," George smirked back at me, "-now let's get that thing-"

"Not so fast," Hard Drive interrupted, "-so far, all Bonfire and I have managed to do is submerge Grisham, not kill him."

"Oh," George looked over at Bonfire and Hard Drive, "-how do we do this, then?"

Junior, who had been hanging back until this point, spoke up.

"Maybe we should ask Rita. This strikes me as her 'area'..."

"Ben-!" Hard Drive caught himself, and continued slightly more calmly, "-have you ever owed Rita a favor? It's not fun, trust me."

"As opposed to what?" Junior pointed out.

"Look, failure is not an option here," George looked around at the others as if challenging them to disagree, "-Frostbite, does Grisham have any weaknesses?"

"I really wish I could help you more, but if I knew how to kill Grisham, he'd already be dead," I told George, unhappily.

"Problem," decided Junior.

Hard Drive looked at me miserably for a second, then closed his eyes.

"How does this work, exactly?" Bonfire asked, "-do you have any control over when you become Grisham, or does it just happen?"

"I... have some control over the process, but how much depends on the situation," I said, carefully.

"Snap?..." George asked, dangerously.

"I would never," I told him, firmly.

George gave me a 'thank you for proving me right' look, and I realized that my answer was exactly the one he'd been expecting. Counting on.

-BLAM!-

Brain, re-engage. I know you can do it...

"-B- -But I've also broken the deal I had with Grisham by showing him to you, so don't let me out of here," I added.

"Figures," George shrugged.

And... It hadn't ended. George still wasn't mad. -Wow.

Hard Drive sighed, somehow commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

"There is a way," he said quietly.

"Why didn't you just say so?" demanded Junior.

'Because I don't really want to die,' Hard Drive thought.

It wasn't loud, but I'd had YEARS of practice listening for Grisham's little asides, and Hard Drive was still in my head...

"No!" I interrupted, "-not at that cost!"

"Wha-" began Junior.

"Hard Drive wants to take Grisham out of my head, and then off himself!"

"Jeremy?" Bonfire looked up at Hard Drive with deep concern in her eyes.

"Don't worry about it, that was Grisham. -I slipped for a moment," shrugged Hard Drive.

"Bullshit!" I yelled.

"-But killing the host body would mean the end of Grisham too?" asked Junior, with thoughtful detachment.

"Yes, but-" I began.

"...Then we're just going to have to kill you," decided Junior.

There was a shocked silence.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

"WHAT??" yelled Bonfire, "You can't just-"

"You of ALL people-" I began, angrily.

"I didn't mean -PERMENANTLY- dead," Junior threw his hands up and started pacing, "-jeez, calm DOWN will you? I meant MEDICALLY dead, which is not the same thing!" ...He continued to pace... "-now if I understand the metaphysics involved here, all we'd have to do is flat-line Frostbite for about sixty seconds and then bring him back."

Junior stopped pacing, and looked from Hard Drive to Frostbite and back again. Hard Drive thought it over, and Frostbite looked hopeful.

"You're a genius," concluded Hard Drive, clapping Junior on the shoulder.

"Thank you."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Frostbite, "-I think I WAS dead a few minutes ago, and obviously that didn't do it. Was it because I wasn't dead long enough?"

"You were never actually dead," Junior explained, "-you stopped breathing, but I bet your heart was still moving."

Frostbite swallowed.

"-More importantly, I'll be there to keep Grisham from rejoining you, THIS time," Hard Drive added, quickly.

"Uh, right," agreed Frostbite, nervously.

"What happens if Grisham tries to use one of US for his next host?" asked Bonfire, reasonably.

"That, um- -that's not gonna happen," Frostbite told her, "-Grisham can't just check into a new body at will."

"So how did YOU-?" began Bonfire.

Frostbite bit his lip, and looked embarrassed.

"Sexually transmitted demon," I translated.

"-Oh," Bonfire put a hand to her mouth.

"You have GOT to be kidding me!" appealed Junior, disbelievingly.

"That does make sense..." sighed Hard Drive, rubbing the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.

"Come on, you guys! How the hell was I supposed to know things like that even EXISTED?" demanded Frostbite.

"Okay, okay. Let's save the ribbing for later," agreed Hard Drive, "-I'm going to-"

Boom! boom! boom!

"Police! Open this door!" someone outside yelled authoritatively in Dutch.

We looked around at the steaming volcanic glass on the floor, at each other, and at the door in question.

...Then Bonfire giggled, and a moment later everybody broke out laughing.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Everybody had a job.

Frostbite had to die, Hard Drive had to keep Grisham from getting back in to Frostbite's head afterwards, Bonfire was spotting for Hard Drive, and Junior was the time-keeper.

Me, I had to kill Frostbite.

A sullen Dutch riot-squad and the owner of the inn watched from the far end of the room. I don't know why they agreed to wait until we had Frostbite straightened out before having a serious talk with us about the state of the room, but I suspect Hard Drive may have had something to do with it.

Like EVERYTHING.

When everybody was ready to start, I walked up to Frostbite and asked,

"Any last words? -That you won't regret in a couple o' minutes, I mean?"

"Nothing you haven't heard before," he replied with a tired smile.

"Huh," I looked down at my hands, then up at Frostbite again, "-well... see ya soon, okay?"

Frostbite nodded slightly within the confines of the stone shell. I clamped my right hand over his nose and mouth, and suffocated him for the second time that day.

* * *

Bonfire:

Frostbite was afraid. I could feel him trembling against the limits of his own control, sure he was going to bite a hole in George's hand if he slipped for even a moment. I could hear Grisham in the background, a devious, taunting thing made up of memories better left forgotten. When Frostbite was almost knocked out, in that secret gray area that pulses blackness in time to your own heartbeat, The thing that was Grisham suddenly got louder. Jeremy had his hands full as it was, so I met the first wave...

Ice.

Winter in Russia near the turn of the century.

A servant woman, perused by dogs.

Taking refuge in a tavern, the warmth inside almost pain by contrast.

A Hollywood set, mid 1920's.

A stage magician with expensive habits, draining the blood of his sobbing, sequined assistant into a tall glass beaker while the cameras roll.

A Shanghai whore-house...

The basement of a town-house in pre-war Germany...

The wheelhouse of a ship, and it's raining...

Amsterdam in the summertime, a woman in a flowered cotton dress, and a hand falls on my shoulder...

New York, and I witness a murder in the 1950's...

A fire by the edge of a lake, a plea comes out of the darkness, "Come to me, spirit of the-"

-And I meet Monique.

Too young, too volatile, too in need of everything at once.

Too much like my daughter Casey.

Too young to contain something as powerful as Grisham, and he owns her forever.

Years pass-

...Frostbite scares her, but she hears herself saying words of Grisham's choosing-

/JEREMYYY!! Hurry up!/ I yelled into the darkness between minds.

/-Almost- -done. Hold- -him-/ Hard Drive responds, distractedly.

I was on my own.

Fine.

So, Grisham wanted to play hardball, did he?

Bad mistake.

As horrific as some of the memories he'd just paraded in front of me were, none of them had involved significant amounts of physical pain. -Even when he got stabbed in New York, he'd faded out just before the pain fully registered, so there was smart money on pain being one of his weaknesses.

/Say, Grisham... you didn't stick around and watch when Snap was born, did you?/ I purred.

* * *

Frostbite:

Waking up is more than a shock.

For a second, it feels as if there's something on fire inside my chest, and then I'm breathing, and my eyes begin to focus.

I see Bonfire wiping her hand off on her blouse, and then I see that the stain it leaves is pale blue, then freezes white, and I realize that there probably WAS something on fire inside my chest, but I'm too happy to be alive to feel ANYTHING to care. George waves a narrow 'ramp out of existence, and the pain in my chest fades with it, but now I can't breathe again.

Luckily, it only takes me a moment to realize that I had been breathing -through- the ramp, and now I'll just have to use my mouth and nose instead.

-Complicated stuff, until I can get my oxygen levels back up.

...Still, there's one thing I have to ask-

"-Did- -it-?"

"It worked," Hard Drive nods, curtly.

--NOW I can relax.

* * *

Snap:

"-But then we ended up in Nashville instead," I was saying, "-we called dad from this really cool biker b- -I mean bike shop, and he came and picked us up, which was good because Tony was completely wiped out from making all those ramps."

"He used to screw up on where he landed?" Scott looked over at me.

We were in the middle of Yerba Buena gardens. It's not really a garden, more like a movie theater and a bunch of strange shops and an ice skating rink and a- -well, there's a lot of stuff in here. On the other side of the railing we were leaning on, Benny and Kyle were chasing each other around the rink at unwise speeds, and Josh had stopped in the center of the ice to re-adjust the bindings on one of his skates.

"Yeah, that's how Tony found this place, actually," I nodded.

"Snap, I got a question for ya."

"What?"

"How long are you going to stay here on the sidelines with me?"

"Look, um..." I fumbled.

"Go. Get out there. Skate," he shooed.

"Just-" I began.

"Go."

"But-"

"Go," Scott chuckled, "-if anybody shows up, I'll give you a yell, and you'll be the first off the rink."

"Well... ah... okay," I flashed Scott a smile, and vanished in the direction of the locker area.

Scott's right. I'm nervous as hell. I don't think I've ever seen Hard Drive as mad as he was at my father earlier. He looked... ready to blow a gasket or something, and my dad was in his own scary space...

I hope this mess turns out okay.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

I closed the ramp after Frostbite, and the noise level dropped off so fast it left my ears ringing. Dutch cops don't mess around, but I thought Hard Drive would be able to handle them without us... if he didn't give himself a relapse in the process. Nahh, Bonfire's with him. Forget about it.

I'm home, I got some answers, I got Frostbite un-demoned, and right now that's definitely good enough for me.

Frostbite dropped bonelessly into one of the kitchen chairs, and put his head on the table. Then he looked up again abruptly, wincing, because his face was toasted two shades shy of 'Caribbean'.

"Ow..." he murmured.

"You look like a jacket I used to have," I sighed, getting the first aid kit down from the cupboard over the refrigerator.

"Foot," Frostbite informed me, pointing down at my boots with concern.

It was then that I realized I'd been leaving little red spots here and there on the floor.

Terrific.

I joined Frostbite at the table, and cut the remains of my right boot off with a pair of heavy scissors from the first-aid kit.

Shit! Now that I was actually paying attention to it, this really hurt...

Frostbite, who seemed to be up and wandering around now for some reason, slid a coffee cup across the table towards me.

"This might help."

Hmm.

Screwdriver, light on the orange juice. Good thinking.

I drank half of it, finished bandaging up my foot, then drank the rest.

Then it occurred to me that I killed Frostbite today.

And came very close to being killed BY him.

I put the mug down in the center of the table, and folded my arms, gripping my upper arms tightly because I was shaking and I couldn't stop.

-I was probably in shock or somethin'.

"Are the others going to meet us here after they get things sorted out with the police?" asked Frostbite.

"W-what? No, ah... No, they're- -goin' to Bonfire and- -Scott's place... -Y' don't remember?"

"No, I think I was still focused on oxygen at the time."

"Heh. Aheh. Heh heh... -Right. Heh."

"So Bonfire and Hard Drive will stay in Holland until Tony comes back, and then he'll handle the transportation from there?"

"How else're they- -gonna get from Holland to- -Connecticut?" I pointed out.

"George?"

"Yeah?"

"We are alive, you know."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

* * *

Frostbite:

Okay, so maybe we're not on the same page...

"The truth?" I sigh. "I was just trying to keep you talking. You're in shock, you know."

"I know."

"Are you gonna-"

"Frostbite! Shut up, will you?"

A silence settles over the kitchen table, and neither one of us speaks for a while. I wish he'd stop yelling that, but right now is not the time to bring it up.

"Should be some stuff in the bottom of the box that you can put on your face," George tells me, pointing to the first-aid kit.

-If I didn't know better, I'd say that sounded like an apology.

A moment later while rummaging through the first-aid box, I realize why the silence sounds so loud.

Grisham hasn't answered.

'If I didn't know better-' is just the kind of phrase Grisham would never have been able to let pass.

For a second, I miss the bastard's company.

...But I have a Christmas party to catch.

I find a white plastic jar labeled 'burn gel' under a roll of cloth adhesive tape, and wonder why half of it is missing. I've just unscrewed the cap, when George leans across the table and puts his hand over my wrist.

"Let me," he offers.

I forgot. George doesn't do apologies out loud...

I look at him critically for a moment, then hand him the jar, and move my chair around to the other side of the table. George scoots his chair closer to mine, then dips two fingers into the burn gel, and starts spreading it on my face.

I'm trying to see what his eyes are saying, but his fingers are louder, and my eyes slip closed.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

I've been rougher on bomb wiring.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not in the habit of treating people like crystal, but this is... I don't know what this is.

Since he's been back, I've touched Frostbite to throw him against a phone booth, to kill him, and now to put this gel on his face.

I wouldn't take back any of the three, but killing Frostbite isn't gonna be one of my favorite memories.

The gel goes cold under my fingers. Frostbite must be feeling better. I get some more of the stuff, and finish covering the left side of his face. His skin's not really that badly burned, just a little bluer than it should be, and the front edges of his ears look uncomfortably dry. I rub some of the burn gel between my palms, then cup his ears in my hands, and slide my hands back over them until I feel the fine points clear my fingers, and my hands close on nothing.

Then I do it again, this time running the ends of my thumbs underneath the top edges of his ears, and it's no longer just about the gel.

Frostbite's breathing catches, and he reaches up to cover my hands with his own. Our fingers slide wetly together just behind his ears, and he squeezes my hands, and I squeeze back, and I swear we're gonna break something.

What DOES break is the surface tension, and I feel the cold, wet system-shock that is Frostbite's mouth against the side of my neck before the rest of my senses even register he's moving.

* * *

Frostbite:

I have missed him.

Dangerous seconds pass, any one of which could be an end to this.

Then more.

Our hands relax, and we find each other.

* * *

Off-Ramp:

Hell of a time for Tony to walk in, but that's what happened.

He got as far as the doorway, saw me in a clinch with Frostbite, and just stopped. The only reason I even knew he was there was because Frostbite stopped kissing me.

Things got very quiet.

"The party... Are you guys going to be there or what?" Tony asked, finally.

"We'll be there," I said.

"I-Is this?..." Tony pointed between me and Frostbite.

"You let me worry about that, Tony," I told him firmly.

"...Right," Tony looked down uncomfortably, "-if anybody asks, when -are- you planning on showing up?"

"Actually, why don't we go back with you now?" suggested Frostbite.

"Not so fast. You're going to need some clothes that don't look like you've just gone head-to-head with a raptor," I reminded him.

"So... you'll catch up later?" asked Tony.

"Nahh... nah, wait here," I sighed, "-we'll be down in a minute."

I opened a ramp to my room, and went rummaging around different drawers for something Frostbite could wear. We're both pretty broad in the shoulders, but the problem is height. Frostbite made a beeline for my closet instead.

"You have a space suit?" he said, surprised.

"Two," I nodded, not turning around, "-that's the clunky one."

"And... leather armor?"

"Mars, two dimensions weirder of here," I shrugged.

"Ooo, now this I like..."

"Wha- HOLY SHIT!"

Frostbite was wearing my Chinese robe. Well, I actually got that in the North-am Wang empire, but it looks Chinese. It's made out of nearly frictionless black silk, with blue dragons and white clouds embroidered across it. Frostbite finished knotting the belt around his waist. The robe now clung to him in all the right places, and looked as if it had been chosen for him. In hindsight, maybe it was.

Frostbite looked up and caught me still staring.

"Okay if I wear this?" he grinned.

"Subtle you ain't."

"I'm celebrating."

"Let's go," I opened a ramp back down to the kitchen.

To his credit, Tony didn't actually -jump-, but he did do a double-take when he saw us walk in. I wiped the burn gel off of my face with a dish towel, and didn't comment.

* * *

Hard Drive:

Well, at least he's happy.

Everyone IS tonight, it seems...

Even me, which is strange.

You think the life of a normal telepath is lonely, try being a Psi-Cop some time. Even other telepaths won't give us the time of day. -It's one of the great ironies of my profession.

We stand as the only line of defense between the population at large and untold numbers of predatory psi-talents that no-one else can see.

If we succeed, nothing happens.

If we fail, people question whether we should exist at all.

Either way, we come off looking like a specter out of '1984', and no-one trusts us.

It's all worth it though, on nights like this one.

I'm watching a family come together. Mine.

Thunderhead and Bonfire are upstairs convincing the last of their children that Christmas morning won't come until AFTER they wake up. On the other side of the living room, four very different people are figuring each other out by the glow of the oversized fireplace.

Frostbite is wondering if he can sleep with Off-Ramp without losing the respect of his son.

Off-Ramp is thinking that he should get some advice from the Fisherman.

Tony has just decided that his secret dilemma over wanting to join the army is no longer the most complicated thing in his life.

Snap is hoping that Frostbite will take him to Canada and introduce him to other snow elves.

Behind me, Junior is haunting Bonfire's snack tray, and mentally calculating the probability of Dr. Renquist being able to escape within the next 36 hours.

-Even Rita's agreed to grace us with her presence by tomorrow.

All of us that still are, will then be here.

For all the edges of tension created by this group, there is something in the air between us, something powerful. Something that has been missing for a long time.

I can almost -see- it knit itself back together.

This is what I do. I put down people and things like Grisham, and by doing so I create the conditions necessary for moments like this to happen.

This may not last. I'd be surprised if it did, in it's current state... But as long as there remains the potential for nights like this one in the future, I will have no regrets.

/Here we go again.../ thinks Junior.

I look over at him and he catches my eye, then smirks with just the corner of his mouth and continues,

/Oh no, the evil telepath has read my thoughts! What ever will I do? Where can I hide?-/

Ah-hah. Junior's telling me not to take myself so seriously. -He may be right about that.

"To the islands in the storm?" I suggest, raising my glass.

"To the eyes in the storm," corrects Junior, and we drink.

-

-END-


End file.
